


Intoxicating Delights Would Leave You Drunk

by ghostboi



Series: Poetic Retelling of an Unfortunate Seduction [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Love, Dom Dean, M/M, Mild Praise Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Dean, Sam's a little drunk, Smut, Strip Poker, Submissive Sam, Threesome - M/M/M, Wincest - Freeform, it started as cards wtf happened, they like to drive Crowley crazy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 06:42:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4656636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostboi/pseuds/ghostboi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What exactly are you two doing?”<br/>“Strip poker,” Dean replied, eyes shifting from his brother to the demon, “I’m winning.”<br/>(Or the one where Crowley is fairly certain those denim-clad nightmares are trying to off him. With sex.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intoxicating Delights Would Leave You Drunk

**Author's Note:**

> bit of an AU. Crowley's been hanging out in the bunker. Sam doesn't speak very much these days. Set S8/S9.  
> Another bit of random. I don't know, blame my brain. ahem. 
> 
> Can be read as a stand.alone or as a follow-up to "Forms That Swirl & Smoke & Haunt This Place".
> 
> [Title created from "A Poetic Retelling of an Unfortunate Seduction" by Conor Oberst/Bright Eyes]

It wasn’t like he sought him out. He didn’t _feel_ anything for the big, gargantuan brat. In fact, the Winchesters were headaches, if not out-and-out nightmares, 80% of the time.

Still – there was something to be said about Sam Winchester when he was drunk. It was the vulnerability, maybe, that flashed in the big man’s hazel gaze, or the way he responded to Dean’s instructions (however ridiculous they may be) with little argument. Maybe it was the way he seemed to feed on positive reinforcement from his brother like it was a life-force.

Crowley studied the big man from across the table. Subtly, of course, sidelong glances here and there. It wouldn’t do to catch the attention of the watchdog of the pair – one Dean Winchester – would it now?

Imagine his surprise when Dean raised eyes from the playing cards he was holding to tell him, “Keep your eyes off my brother, Crowley.”

He raised a brow, smirked in amusement as Sam choked a little on the drink of beer he had just taken. “No idea what you’re babbling about,” his focus shifted back to the older of the pair; Dean’s green gaze was still on him. The elder Winchester’s brows lifted in skepticism before he dropped his eyes back to his cards.

Crowley went back to his typical routine of ignoring them, feigning interest in the book he was holding. It lasted approximately two minutes. In his defense, it did catch him a bit unawares when Sam suddenly muttered a soft curse and tugged his plaid, button-up overshirt off. The t-shirt beneath it was little more than a second skin with the way it was stretched tight across Sam’s chest.

Dean smirked and watched, eyes following Sam’s every move, before saying, “Sure you want to keep playing, Sammy?” The bigger man flipped him off in response, and Dean chuckled and gathered the cards to shuffle and deal them out again.

Another round of cards was played, which resulted in Sam’s removal of his t-shirt and a leering, far-from-appropriate comment from Dean. Crowley blinked at the two men sitting across the table before asking, 

“What exactly are you two doing?”

“Strip poker,” Dean replied, eyes shifting from his brother to the demon, “I’m winning.” 

Crowley tore his eyes from Sam’s very well-defined torso and cleared his throat. “I can see that. You two haven’t anything better to do?”

“Nope,” both men answered promptly, eyes on the cards they held.

Crowley sighed and shook his head, dropping his own gaze back to his book. He realized, after reading the same passage for the third time, that he was a little distracted.

Bloody Winchesters and their practically-underwear-models bodies. 

 

Several hands later, Sam was down to a pair of unbuttoned jeans (and what appeared to be snug-fitting boxer briefs beneath them), Dean was clearly enjoying his brother’s state of embarrassment and undress, and Crowley was ready to yank his hair out. Or pounce the now half-naked man sitting so near to him. When Sam lost the next hand and stood to shove his jeans off his hips, Crowley ran a hand over his face and muttered, 

“And people call _me_ evil.”

He raised his head to look at Dean as the elder Winchester chuckled. “Problem, Crowley?”

“You two morons can’t do this in your own room?”

“We could,” Dean agreed with a smirk, pushing his chair back to stand, “but you couldn’t watch, then.” The look on his face was practically predatory as he moved around the table to stand in front of his brother. Sam swallowed but remained quiet, motionless, as Dean reached him.

Crowley saw the shiver run through the bigger man as Dean brushed a fingertip down the side of Sam’s neck: moments later, the older Winchester was straddling the younger’s lap and pulling him close for a kiss.

He couldn’t have torn his eyes from the pair if Lucifer himself appeared suddenly and shoved a knife in his back. 

Crowley shifted in his chair, a jolt of lust shooting through him, as Sam moaned softly against his brother’s mouth. The elder brother had his fingers tangled in the younger’s hair and was laying a rather thorough claim to his mouth with his tongue. It was Sam’s moan of “Please, Dean,” against Dean’s mouth that had him expelling a soft groan of his own as he reached down to adjust himself.

Crowley met Dean’s gaze as the elder Winchester’s eyes shifted to him. The other man was smirking at him, his fingers still tangled in Sam’s hair as he ground his hips against his brother. There was some type of challenge in that green gaze, Crowley thought, but hell if he knew what it was. 

Dean moved off of Sam to stand before him. He smirked down at his brother before leaning in to growl near his ear, “On your knees.” Sam was out of the chair and on his knees in front of Dean without a moment’s hesitation. Dean’s praise of “good boy” sent a shudder through Sam that wasn’t missed; Dean pulled him closer and Sam mouthed at his denim-clad crotch.

“Hot, isn’t he?”  
Crowley tore his eyes from Sam to look at Dean as the man spoke to him. “So fuckin’ _obedient_ , when he wants to be,” Dean continued, eyes dropping to his brother as he tugged at Sam’s hair, drawing a soft noise of pleasure from the kneeling man. “Good with his mouth, too. Of course, you know all about that, don’t you?”

He most certainly did. He hadn’t forgotten the way Sam had responded to his touch or the feel of the man’s mouth on him, the one time the man had been on his knees for him (at Dean’s behest, nonetheless). He licked his lips and cleared his throat before agreeing, “He’s not bad.” 

His comment brought him another smirk. He watched as Dean pulled Sam away from him – the bigger man whimpered in protest – then slipped a hand beneath his chin. “Want Crowley’s cock in your mouth again, baby boy?” 

“Anything you want, Dean.”

Crowley bit back his groan at the question and Sam’s answer, running a hand over his face again. These two.. these two were trying to kill him. That was the only explanation. His attention returned to the brothers as Dean chuckled and asked, “I’m asking what you want. You want to suck him off?” Sam’s gaze shifted briefly to Crowley before returning to Dean; the demon muttered his own low-spoken “fuck” as the younger Winchester nodded yes. 

Another chuckle from Dean – how was the man _not_ a demon himself, with the amusement he seemed to receive from this torment he was inflicting? Crowley wasn’t certain if he wanted to punch him in the throat or kiss him on the mouth. He decided on the latter as Dean raked his nails down Sam’s bare back, eliciting a low moan from the other, before instructing, “Go on, then.” 

Crowley couldn’t tear his eyes from Sam as the big man crawled, hands and knees, across the floor to him. He watched in lust and fascination as Sam moved between his spread legs and knelt there, eyes on his face. 

“Do it, Sammy. Suck him off.”

Sam obeyed instantly Dean’s command and reached for him; Crowley allowed it, watching as the kneeling man undid his black slacks and pushed them open. It was when the man’s fingers brushed his hard cock that he growled and reached for him. He wrapped his fingers in Sam’s hair and pulled him closer, growling again as the other pulled him free of his pants and began to stroke him. The first touch of Sam’s tongue against his aching flesh drew a hiss from him, and he pulled harder at the other’s hair. Sam moaned and leaned in to swallow down his cock, and Crowley ground out another breathless, “Fuck.” 

The demon watched, eyes flashing to red in his lust, as Dean moved to press up against his brother. Older brother ran hands down the younger’s back and sides, and Sam moaned and rocked back against him. The moan sent vibrations straight through Crowley’s cock, and he growled, “Such a good boy,” as he jerked the other closer. Sam pressed closer to him at the words, and Crowley smirked as Dean’s eyes narrowed slightly. 

“Might let you play with him,” Dean’s voice was a growl of its own, his hands tugging the jeans off Sam’s hips now, pushing down the briefs, “but he belongs to me.” The elder Winchester grabbed a handful of Sam’s hair and pulled him off of Crowley as he asked, “Who do you belong to, Sammy?”  
“You,” Sam shivered as Dean’s fingers wrapped around his throat, tightened slightly, “Always you, Dean. ‘m yours.”  
“Yeah?”  
A nod from Sam, and Dean released him and shoved his head back down. Crowley gritted his teeth to keep himself from groaning aloud as Sam’s hot mouth engulfed his dick again. He couldn’t stop himself as he tangled his own fingers in the man’s hair and thrust into his mouth. “Just fuck him already,” he growled, eyes locking with Dean’s.

“Gotta open him up first,” Dean’s words, almost reverent as he spread Sam’s ass, nearly undid the demon. He watched as the man leaned in to lick a stripe down Sam’s back, then lower. When Dean’s tongue slid down his crack, the younger of the two shivered, whimpering softly around Crowley’s dick.

“Fuck me,” Crowley groaned as Dean found what he was searching for and began licking at Sam’s hole. Dean raised his head long enough to shoot him a grin and say, “Maybe after I’m done with Sam,” before focusing his attention back to his brother. Sam moaned around his shaft seconds before taking more of him in his mouth, while rocking back against Dean’s mouth and tongue. 

These two were _definitely_ trying to do him in. With sex.

Crowley tried to focus on Dean as the man slid a finger into his brother to spread him open. Admittedly, he was having difficulty focusing on anything beyond the hot mouth around his shaft, the hair in which his fingers were tangled, and the noises Sam was making. He managed to pull his eyes from the kneeling man’s face – Sam was truly a pleasure to view: eyes closed, mouth filled with cock, spit and precome trickling from his lips – as Dean breathed his own growl of “fuck yeah, Sammy.” The man had three fingers in his brother –and when had that happened? – and was scissoring him open, his focus completely on his task. Crowley watched as he pulled his fingers free: a moment later, he was pressing the head of his hard dick against Sam’s hole. 

The sound Sam made as Dean pressed into him sent a shudder through Crowley that threatened to make him come that instant. It was a moan of pleasure, pain, and need, with need overriding everything else; followed by a breathless plea as Sam pulled momentarily off his dick of “please, fuck, yes”; and the feel of the younger man’s mouth as the other swallowed him down again, sucking hard at his shaft.

Dean let out a growl of his own, his fingers digging hard into Sam’s hips; after just moments he began to thrust into his brother, riding him like he owned him. And he did, didn’t he? That much was obvious as Sam rocked back against him, silently begging for more, while attempting to suck Crowley’s brains out through his cock. 

“Fuck his mouth,” Dean’s instructions were directed at him, and who was he to argue? He pulled Sam’s head closer, began to grind into the younger Winchester’s mouth, as Dean pounded him from behind. 

“Like that, Sammy? Like having that pretty mouth fucked? Does my baby boy like being pounded by his brother?”

The questions were dirty, harsh, and judging from Sam’s responding moans, precisely what the young man wanted to hear. 

“You want Crowley’s come?” 

When Sam moaned what he suspected was an affirmation, Dean reached out and slid a hand to the back of his neck. Crowley met the green gaze as Dean pulled him close – the other man’s eyes dropped to his mouth, and he smirked. He growled in pleasure as the other caught his mouth in a hard kiss, tongue slipping into his mouth to taste him. When Dean pulled back after a long minute to catch his breath, he instructed, voice a whisper, 

“Do it. Come in my bitch’s mouth. Make him take it.” 

The words sent Crowley over the edge and he began to come, sudden and hard, with a groan. He filled Sam’s mouth, continued thrusting as the younger man swallowed it down, using his hair to hold him in place as he fucked him. Dean followed him over seconds later, grinding hard against Sam’s ass as he fucked him, a growl of “Mine,” escaping his throat as he clutched his brother’s hips hard enough to bruise.

Crowley could only watch, slumped in his chair, as Dean pulled suddenly out of Sam and reached forward to grab a handful of his longish hair. The older brother turned the younger to face him, jerking him close for a kiss, as he reached down to stroke Sam’s cock.

“Come, Sammy.” Two words, growled against Sam’s mouth, and the younger man was coming instantly with a soft cry of pleasure. Dean caught his mouth in another possessive kiss as he stroked his brother through his orgasm.

Crowley watched with interest, cock giving a twitch, as Dean raised his hand and began to lick Sam’s come from it. When he was finished, he pulled Sam close to kiss him again. They parted after long moments, and Dean tugged his brother against him, tucking Sam’s head beneath his chin. He didn’t seem to care that they were both seated on the floor, still. He merely leaned back against the leg of the table as he took Sam’s weight against his chest. 

The three sat in silence for a brief spell – the Winchesters seemed to be dozing almost, though he knew Dean’s eyes were on him most of the time. He watched in silence as, after several minutes, Dean pushed himself to his feet and stretched before tugging his jeans up. He didn’t bother to button them as he reached down to offer a hand to Sam. The bigger man took it and allowed Dean to pull him to his feet; the smaller man caught the bigger as Sam staggered slightly. Crowley watched as Dean tugged Sam’s jeans back up around his hips but left them unbuttoned; when he lifted his eyes to Sam’s face, he found that the man was watching him.

Crowley stared at the two for a moment before forcing himself to avert his gaze. “Well,” he allowed a smirk to trace his mouth as he tucked himself back into his slacks, “That was fun.” 

He shifted his eyes back to the pair as Dean asked, voice now an almost-lazy drawl of satisfaction, “Who said we were finished?” 

He stared after them as Dean exited the room, in the direction of the bedrooms, Sam close behind him. Dean’s call of “Coming, Crowley?” had him on his feet and moving after them.

Hell yes. Hopefully several more times tonight.


End file.
